


Socialite

by BorderSpam



Series: Twins Prompts [4]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Katagawa struggling between wanting to kiss or kill this suave asshole amirite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 07:48:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21490849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BorderSpam/pseuds/BorderSpam
Summary: Katagawa Jr hosts a gala he's reluctantly invited the Twin Gods to due to their business relationship.Planning on using them as unwitting "entertainment" for the night, ignorant bandits ready to be targets of mockery for the corporate aristocracy he's surrounded himself with... he's not quite prepared to be outdone at his own game.
Relationships: One Sided - Relationship, Troy Calypso/Katagawa Jr., implied
Series: Twins Prompts [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1525211
Comments: 9
Kudos: 20
Collections: Leech Lord AU





	Socialite

**Author's Note:**

> Beautiful art for this minific courtesy of - https://twitter.com/lazulizard/status/1196701758375903234?s=20

Huge thanks to Lazulizard for incredible art of this minific, check it out [Here](https://twitter.com/lazulizard/status/1196701758375903234?s=20)

* * *

“Oh _wait_ till you see them, it’s _hilaaaarious_.”

Katagawa Jr drawled, rolling his eyes for emphasis as his crowd of admirers drank in the theatrics. Basking in the attention of the audience of suits gathered around him and hanging off the young tycoon’s every word, he twirled his now empty martini glass between his fingers with a smirk.

This gala was going _well_ so far, if he said so himself.. and he did, it was _his_ after all, every guest carefully selected from his roster of corporate aristocracy, business glitterati, _sycophants_… all eyes on him, exactly as he deserved. He was the star of the show.

Every guest that was, bar the targets of his current mockery, who were more of a _required_ invite based on their current relationship than people he actually had any interest in _socialising _with.

“They call themselves the -_haha_-, the “Twin Gods”, can you _imagine_.“ He wheezed, raising a dramatic hand to his chest in mock pain as his audience laughed in response, muttering amused agreement under their breath.

Snatching a new cocktail from the waiter who’d _finally_ noticed he was running dry (and who he’d make sure wouldn’t have a job by the end of the night), he smirked into the glass as he sipped, enjoying the atmosphere. The polite tittering chatter of the social elite that filled the beautifully dressed room was sweeter music to his ears than the ambient harp being played by the marble arched entrance to the event, and infinitely more interesting.

“Shameful, honestly. Pair of filth-encrused bandits with notions of _grandeur_. Barely capable of dressing themselves, wouldn’t know a fitted piece of clothing if _it bit them_. The first time I met them -sip- good lord…”

Refined chuckles from the group around him, eager to get on the Maliwan execs good side. Playing them like that harp, in _complete control_ and relishing it.

He was the most _powerful_ man here, he’d made sure of that when planning the guest list, and the knowledge he was the golden calf in the room? That all eyes were on him, that everyone wanted a piece? It was worth the 8 digit price tag for this event.

It was worth _every cent_.

“Troy, that’s the -haha-, the “man” of the pair, scrawny _freak_ that he is, his pants were an _inch_ from falling off the entire meeting, didn’t know how to properly _fasten_ them. Scum has never _heard_ of a shirt either. Everything on display. Ufff -sips - Nothing left to the _imagination_, but what do you expect from Pandoran filth?“

More laughing, another wave of satisfied pride through his chest, another 4 billion in acquisitions as he won his crowd over to Maliwan’s side, one by one.

“And the _woman_, Tyreen… -ugh- if you could call that _thing_ a woman, rough. Vulgar, body like a twelve year old boy. -sips- You’ve seen the type. All mouth, you know? No _skill with it_.. ahahah.”

Less laughter this time, odd, because he had been _sure_ that last line was going to land well..

“ -ahem- Honestly, at least they’ll put on a _show_ once they arrive. Good entertainment is so hard to find, I’m sure you all can agree..”

He was losing them, and he felt a quick jolt of self doubt pang through his stomach. Eyes over his shoulders and not on him, mustachioed older men shuffling to the side in their overly tight suits to look past him. They were meant to be looking at _him_, this was _his gala_, who the hell dared to distract th-

“Katagawa…” That rolling, smooth voice he _loathed_, and it was coming from justbehindhim. 

Fantastic. _They_ were here. Now it was time for the show to start at their expense, he smiled to himself, feeling a thrill of cruel excitement.

Letting out a long, exaggerated sigh, he grimaced. Pouted as he brushed his silken lapels with a huff, making it as clear as possible to his audience that what he was _a_bout to do was an unwanted chore, then, finally, turned to “greet” the Calypsos…

Only to choke into a wide eyed cough as his eyes landed on the _stunning_ man standing behind him, vitriol he’d readied to spew at them catching in his throat.

That.. that was a custom Auscher suit, he’d not seen one since he was last on Dionysus for that board merger with his father. How _much had this filthbag paid to get a fitted Auscher?_

Black, flawless cut, hanging off Troy’s lithe frame in a way that somehow emphasised the curve of every muscle and breadth of his shoulders. Deep scarlet Athenian silk shirt ( goddamn he’d been bidding on one of those for 6 months now ), matching Auscher black tie, perfectly planned in its _casual looseness_ to draw the eye up his formidable height, past the glinting golden points in that wide, confident grin, and up to the glowing siren markings that curved around his devilish blue eye, thick crest of inky hair swept back in a loose waxed upstyle.

Katagawa coughed into his fist again, spilling his martini with each jolt as he blushed furiously, this was _not _how this was meant to go, how the _hell_ was the Calypso scum dressed _better than he was_.

Laughter from his audience, but at _him now_ as he continued to choke, and more again when the bandit filth clapped a heavy black metal gauntlet down on his shoulder. _Hard_, knocking the wind out of his lungs and stifling the cough.

A wave of expertly selected cologne flowed off Troy as he subtly twisted the clawed hand, spiced wood, citrus notes, _gun _oil.

Katagawa’s cheeks were on fire, barely managing to contain how _furious_ he was to be showed up like this. At _his own gala_, by _Pandoran **scum**_, smiling at him like he was the focus of the event… how _dare he_, who the hell does he think he _is_.

He awkwardly shifted with the claw as it moved him, scarlet light peeking between the mirror black joints as the glowing red talons pierced the cloth of his suit, turning him to face the crowd and resting still on his shoulder in a mock gesture of friendship as the pompous _asshole_ towered behind him.

“…so _kind_ of you to invite us, we’ve been looking forward to this _all month_.”

Razor sharp claws dragged into the shoulder of his tailored suit jacket, ruining it tear by tear as the crowd watched on and laughed at his expense, enthralled by the show he’d promised them would be enjoyable earlier. All eyes on the beautifully finished man looming behind him, and he _seethed_ as Troy continued in that sensual, mocking voice.

“My sister and I are delighted to get _closer_ to your, hmm… _deliciously distinguished_ guests… she’s actually already making her introductions, so you’ll have to excuse her.” Troy purred with a sultry wink, the prosthetic fist’s pressure increasing on Katagawa’s shoulder as he leaned down on the smaller man, completely aware of the rage boiling under his skin.

“I on the other hand... couldn’t resist coming to greet my _dear_ friend, _Junior_.”

-_You FUCKER what did you just call me in front of these people_-

Another wave of laughter and some raised glasses to Troy’s humor, his teeth were grinding so hard he was shaking. If this was anywhere else the scum’s brains would be splattered across the floor behind him by now, but he could do **nothing**, not in front of the socialites.

“…Aren’t you going to introduce me?”

-_... Don’t react, you can do this, he’s trying to play you. He wants you to lose composure. Remember, you’re in control, not him._-

“This.. is.. -deep breath- _Troy Calypso_, head of COV med-”

“_Title_.”

Troy’s teeth were so close to his ear he could feel the minted breath on his cheek as he was so a skillfully interrupted, another wave of tittering from the crowd. Katagawa felt his stomach lurch. How the hell was this happening.

“… excuse me?” He hissed, layer of carefully curated social politeness starting to crack away.

This was.. his.. gala.. how was he being upstaged this easily, how was he losing control to this _echonet celebrity_.

“My _title_, Katagawa.”

He’d kill him. He’d kill him this smarmy asshole as soon as this event was over, he’d wipe him off the face of the shithole planet he crawled out of.

“Of _course_… this is _God King Calypso_, head of the COV media department, one of the…”

It caught in his dry mouth.

“…one of the “Twin Gods”.“

A hard slap to his shoulder jolted _more_ of his cocktail over the lapels of his suit, and Troy’s raucous laugh filled the air as he stepped in front of him and moved to join the crowd eager to converse with the new star of the event.

"Thanks! Glad to be here, it _really_ is an honor, but I best get to know _these_ fine people more intimately, talk later, Junior!”

Katagawa’s hand shook so hard the glass fully emptied, too lost in fury to register the dampness down his chest. He glared murder into that beautifully fitted coat back as Troy was engulfed by the clamoring crowd, and retreated to the pillars near the buffet table to try and consider _HOW this had just happened. _

\- Hours later -

Scum. SCUM. Floating around the gala, dropping naturally into conversations he _shouldn’t have any understanding of_ and leaving each with new private echonumbers, new acquisitions, new _sponsors_. Where did he _learn this?_ The ease of it, like he was a damn natural.

How dare he be here like _this_. He was invited as a _joke_, he was invited to be made fun of, an idiot bandit who got _lucky_, someone who’d not pick up on the subtle mockery of the elite who would surround him, someone to enjoy treating like _filth_ for the evening.

Finally, he was coming this way at last, eyeing up the gourmet feast spread across the massive tables like the _disgusting scavenger_ he was. 

Katagawa’s knife edge focus stayed on him as he hurriedly fixed his hair, pulled at his suit front to neaten up in preparation for the encounter. He’d had enough. This asshole was going to _listen_ to _him_, it was _his_ gala. _His_ money. _HIS_ GUESTS that this filth had hogged most of the night, no one even glancing at Katagawa since he’d arrived. He’d pay for this.

He waited for Troy to get within reach, then grabbed his forearm with as much force as he could, hoping to bruise the solid muscle in his fist as he awkwardly pulled the _much_ _larger_ man out of sight of the crowd and into the shadows behind the pillar.

Troy’s calm demeanor only fueled the hatred he felt at this moment, still pushing a Hors d'oeuvre into his mouth as the Executive shook in rage in front of him, fingers digging into his flesh arm.

“Are you TRYING to show me up, you **scum**.” Katagawa hissed up into his face, while Troy chewed open mouthed.

“This isn’t funny, swanning around like you.. like you _belong here_. Do you have any idea how important half of these people are. Do you have _any idea what they even do?_ Of the power they have, while you flounce around them like some _little slut_ desperate for their attention?”

No response, stunning blue eyes still lazily gazing down at him as he swallowed, raising a bladed finger to idly scratch at his jawbone.

“Oh.. am I _boring_ you?“

That enraging grin again, followed by an eager nod, the cleverly crafted warning in Katagawa’s question _completely disarmed _without any real effort.

He snapped, this was too much. It was all too much, he was an intensely power man, he was Katagawa Jr, Maliwan exec, this _slob_ was nothing. **Nothing**. He pulled him down with all his strength, rage overflowing as Troy barely moved in response.

“You… y… y-you’re disgusting. You’re _disgusting_, you _hideous **freak**_!”

Spittle shot from between Katagawa’s teeth as he panted in rage, and Troy sighed, raising the taloned gauntlet to carefully pry the weakening fingers from around his arm.

“Awww, little buddy. Envy does _not_ suit you.”

That shit eating grin, that smug, suave, beautiful face, looking down at him like he was some _petulant child_ as he returned Katagawa’s fist to his side.

“Maybe _you_ should have done a little foot work researching _us_ instead of making assumptions about how tonight would go, huh?”

That _fucking smile_, too many teeth, the hairs raised on the back of Katagawa’s neck. He’d.. he’d misjudged this hadn’t he.

“I know who _every person_ in this room is. I know their statistics, their roles. Their _portfolios_.”

“I know what they _want_, and I know how to _give_ it to them. I know how to be better than _you_, at _being_ you.”

Cold sweat broke out across his back, it was getting hard to breath under this looming, terrifying visage bearing down on him, icy blue and glowing red in the shadows he’d dragged them both into.

“That, Katagawa.. is my **job**. And I am very, _very_ good at my job..”

He laughed quietly, canines glinting gold in the dim light.

“You.. you know I’m a _Siren_, right?”

“You know what Sirens are good at? You know what we do _so well_?”

He reached up with those talons, dim scarlet glow lighting the underneath of his face as he carefully straightened Katagawa’s tie for him.

“We _lure_.”

“… We _seduce_, we _tempt_, it’s what we’re built for. We call out across the dark tides of space and we bring what we hunger for _to us_, and once we have what we want _from_ you…”

A sudden biting pressure around his neck, and he was lifted as he choked. Troy’s nose nearly touching his, breath struggling in his ribs as his eyes frantically flickered in panic around the room. No one paying attention. No one seeing the _monstrous thing_ in a stunning suit he’d been so eager to confront moments ago as it held him off the ground by the throat, talons pricking into his skin as he struggled against the bladed gauntlet holding him up so effortlessly.

Troy waited, savoring the moment. Enjoying his prey feebly clawing at the prosthetic so easily crushing its windpipe, eyes wild in terror, staring up into that wolfish, wide smile.

He lowered his head, lips brushing the terrified man's cheekbone, and whispered:

“… we’ll dash your corpse on the _fucking rocks_.”

Katagawa gasped in a shaking breath as he was dropped, and stumbling backwards to the ground, holding his bloodied neck in pain as he wheezed in painful lungfuls of air and stared in terror at the man still standing so _relaxed_ above him.

He flinched nervously as Troy suddenly clapped his hands together, shifting persona with practised ease.

“…honestly though, _great_ party bro, su-perb shit. The food, WOW. I’ll make sure to give you a call out next stream, yeah?”

God King Calypso turned on his heel and sauntered back into the crowd, all too eager to part and welcome the_ real_ _star_ of the show.

Job done.

And he was very, _very_ good at his job.


End file.
